


Return To The Hellmouth

by f1vebyf1ve, paranormalRomantic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Humor, Kinda?, Lesbian Faith Lehane, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Omniscient, Possession, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Second Chances, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Vampires, anya mention, but in a nice way, don't worry we bring her back, faith and buffy are friends, formatted like a buffy season so lots of fun monster of the week stuff, mention of tara's death, no kennedy, oz comes back, oz/willow mention, tara shows up in chapter 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f1vebyf1ve/pseuds/f1vebyf1ve, https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranormalRomantic/pseuds/paranormalRomantic
Summary: Spike receives a call from Andrew telling him about the new Slayer academy Buffy and Faith have built on the ruins of Sunnydale. He decides to reunite with Buffy and Illyria tags along for the ride. What happens when Willow raises the dead, and a mysterious order of Slayers out for blood threaten to destroy all that the Scoobies have built?(Basically f1vebyf1ve and paranormalRomantic's ideal season 8.)
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers, Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg
Kudos: 2





	Return To The Hellmouth

Spike sat in his apartment, a bottle of liquor in his hand. They'd won the battle. The senior partners had been defeated. He should be celebrating. Any rational man would have been overjoyed, but Spike was no rational man. Even he knew that much.

He wanted to be happy, really he did. But everything felt so empty and meaningless. There was a hole in his heart the size of a crater. Well, more like the size of a 5’8 southern scientist.

He loved Fred. Not in the way he loved Buffy. He could never love someone in the way he loved Buffy. No, he loved her in a way that was completely and utterly unique to Winifred Burkle. It wasn't a romantic love per se, but it was more than he had ever platonically loved someone. And when she died, it felt like he had been staked in the heart.

Just as he was about to take another swig of cheap booze, his phone began to ring.

“Bugger off,” Spike muttered as he declined the call. He chugged the liquor, barely taking time to swallow.

_ Brrrrinnnggg!!!  _ The phone rang again. This time, Spike hit accept.

“It is I, your fearless friend and confidante, Andrew. I've come bearing great n-”

“Either quit with the poncey bullshit and get to the point or sod off and let me drink in peace!” Spike shouted into his phone, the alcohol slurring his words.

“Eek! Sorry! Don’t go all Dark Phoenix on me!” Andrew yelped. Spike rolled his eyes.

“You've got ten seconds to explain what the hell is going on, before I hang up, catch a flight to Rome, and ram this phone-”

“T-that's actually what I was calling you about. We're, uh, not in Italy anymore,” Andrew stammered. “We’re back in Sunnydale.” Spike got quiet as he took in the news. Not only was Buffy back in the good ol’ US of A, but she was only a two-hour drive away.

“Spike? Are you still there?” Andrew asked hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah, I’m still here.”

“I… I told Buffy you’re alive.” Andrew said.

“What the hell did you do that for!” Spike hollered into the phone.

“I thought you’d want her to know. You can’t pretend to be dead forever, y’know...”   


“Well, I could bloody try, couldn’t I?” 

“Look. Buffy wants you in Sunnydale. Show up or don’t. Your call.”  Spike sighed and hung up the phone. 

“Guess I’m going back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike riffled through his bedroom, throwing clothes haphazardly into his suitcase. He took his leather duster off the coat rack and slung it over his shoulders. He took another swig of booze and zipped the suitcase shut.

He looked up, and saw Illyria standing in front of his bedroom door. She’d been crashing with him since Wesley died. At first, it was weird, having the demon that killed his friend and hijacked her body sleeping on his couch, but the two of them had developed a mutual respect for one another.

“Where is it you are going, vampire?” Said Illyria, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m off to see an old friend.” Spike replied.

“You’re going to see the Slayer. The one with the strange name. What was it? Ber-” Spike interrupted her.

“Buffy.” He rolled his eyes.

“May I come?”

“I don’t think Buffy and her gang of do-gooders want a formerly evil God living with them.” Spike quipped.

“Formerly evil? I assure you I am still very much evil.”

“Yeah, that’ll definitely ease my doubts.” Spike remarked.

“You’re evil and they allowed you to be around them. Well, you were evil.”

“It was different. Buffy and I… whatever.”

“Please, Spike, there is nothing left for me here. You must take me with you.” Illyria said, more demanding than pleading.

“How many times do I have to tell you? No. Now sod off!” Spike said as took his suitcase off the bed.

“I guess I’ll just tell Angel that Buffy’s back. I’m sure he would love to know.” Illyria smirked. 

“Fine, you can come. Just don’t try anything, capiche?”

“I will try.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike and Illyria sat in the car, punk music blared from the stereos.

“Must we listen to this noise?” Illyria said, her nose scrunched in disgust.

“Noise? It’s the Sex Pistols!” Spike laughed. He tapped his hands against the steering wheel to the beat.

Illyria groaned. 

“So. How did you know this Bunny girl?”

“It’s Buffy.” Spike corrected, his tone as sharp as daggers. “I tried to kill her a few times. She beat my ass a few more times. It was love at first sight. Well, more like tenth? I don’t know.”

“You love her?” Illyria sneered, curling her upper lip.

“Did you love Wesley?” Spike asked. Illyria tensed up.

“Love? We Old Ones don’t ‘love’. I felt those  _ feelings _ Winifred Burkle had for him, but they were just a byproduct of her humanity.” Illyria spit the words out like they were poisonous. 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Spike looked down. “She cared about me a lot. She was there for me when none of the rest of you lot were.” 

“Stop with your…  _ sadness. _ I don’t like feeling it. It’s weird… and discomforting.” Illyria shifted awkwardly in her seat.

“Oh, I’m so sorry my pesky emotions are inconveniencing you, oh great Old One.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“They are inconveniencing me. Please turn them off.” 

“That’s not how it works, love. You don’t just turn emotions on and off. You feel ‘em until it kills you.” 

“Well, I don’t want them to kill me.”

“I didn’t mean literally.”

“You mortals always do that. Say things you do not mean.”

“Hey! I’m immortal, just like you.”

“Pfff. You may live longer than a human, but you’re no less mortal than them. Having a little bit of demon in you will never change what you truly are.”

Spike went silent, unsure of how to respond. He looked at the road ahead. 

“Your feelings grow stronger, vampire.”

“Yeah, well, you’re pissin’ me off.” Spike turned the music up louder until he could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone what Illyria had to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car pulled up in front of what once was the Sunnydale Hellmouth. In its place was a towering building that looked straight out of  _ Dead Poets Society _ . The school was built of cobblestone and a large ornate fence surrounded it. Grand pillars adorned the front of the building. A sign reading  _ The Summers-Lehane School For Wayward Girls _ stood next to the gate.

“Damn, the Slayer’s really upped her game,” Spike said, his mouth agape as he stared up at the school.

The door to the school opened, and out came Dawn and Andrew. Spike got out of the car to greet them. Illyria did not, instead she sat still, staring off into nothing.

“Are you getting out of the car, or what?” Spike asked, looking over at Illyria.

“I suppose I must.” Illyria sighed as she opened the car door and stepped out.

“Spike, amigo, mate, chum, you’re back!” Andrew ran over to Spike and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Hey! Get your hands off me, you wanker!” Spike said. Andrew quickly let go of Spike.

“That’s the Spike we all know and love.” Andrew beamed wildly. Dawn rolled her eyes.

“Love is a strong word…” Dawn remarked.

“Hey, little bit.” Spike said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. 

“We thought you were dead. Buffy mourned you.” 

“I was dead. Well, at least for a little while.”

“You should have called.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“I…. I wanted to…” He trailed off.

“Hey, who’s the big smurf?” Andrew asked, trying to ease the tension.

“Smurf?” Illyria said, a puzzled look on her face.

“Illyria, meet Andrew. Andrew, meet Illyria. She’s an evil parasite who’s stolen my friend’s body.” Spike explained.

“Oh, like the trill from Star Trek!”

“Sure. Whatever.” 

“They’re like these parasites that form co-consciousnesses with their-”

“Do I look like I care about your space aliens from the bloody telly?” Spike growled.

“No.” Andrew looked down at his feet.

“Are you going to introduce me too, or did you forget about me while you were off playing dead?” Dawn asked, grimacing at the platinum blonde vampire.

“Illyria, this is Dawn. She’s Buffy’s kid sister.” Spike said.

“Hey! I’m not a kid! I’m almost eighteen!” Dawn pouted.

“Yeah, yeah. My apologies. She’s Buffy’s younger sister.” 

“Are you a Slayer as well, little Betty?” 

“It’s Buffy. And no, thanks for rubbing it in.”

“So… where’s Buffy?” Spike asked, his eyes shifting away from Dawn and Andrew.

“She’s teaching the Slayers something. Something about… making steaks with vampires?” Andrew trailed off.

“He wasn’t paying attention. She’s teaching them about makeshift stakes. Y’know, when you break a chair in half and use the leg to dust a vampire.” Dawn said, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“She’s busy, so how about I give you the grand tour while you wait?” Andrew offered, a self-congratulatory smile on his face.

“How about you shut your gob, and take me to her.” Spike said, his lips pursed, his brows furrowed.

“Ah! Alright! Cool the rage! I’m just a little guy!” Andrew said, holding his hands up in defense.

Illyria’s ears perked up. She looked over at Spike. “Are we to do violence against this small nerd boy?” She asked, excitement in her eyes.

“Not today, maybe later.” Spike joked.

“I guess that’s my cue to take you to her?” Andrew asked, a bit nervous.

“Well, alright. But no funny business. I don’t care about seeing the cafeteria or janitor’s closet.” Spike said as he and Illyria followed the pair of Watchers-In-Training into the school building.

Though it was night, the school was ablaze with movement and life. Teenage girls roamed the halls, loudly speaking amongst themselves. Through the window to a classroom, they could see students sparring.

“Christ, do Slayers ever sleep?” Spike exclaimed.

“Not since the First, we have to be on guard at all times,” Dawn said.

Illyria turned to Spike. “I sense something. Something… wrong.” She said, her face more concerned than Spike had ever seen it.

“Could you possibly be more vague?” Spike quipped.

“I do not know the specifics. I just… can feel it in my chest. Like a heartbeat slightly off rhythm.” 

“Why don’t we have Mr. Giles look into it?” Andrew suggested.

“Tell him I said hi. I’m sure he’ll be pleased as a peach to hear from me.” Spike said, grinning wryly.

The group neared a corner, and entered a large classroom full of young Slayers. The Slayers each had various wooden objects scattered across their desks. Buffy stood at the front of the room holding a chair in her hands. She broke it over her knee.

“You have to put your Slayer strength to good use. You’re not always gonna just have a pre-made stake on hand, sometimes you’ve got to work with what you’ve got. Pretty much any wooden object can be made into a weapon if used resourcefully. Chairs, tables, peg legs,” The class laughed. “Y’know whatever’s around.”

“Hey, Buffy. We have someone who needs to speak to you.” Andrew said, interrupting her lesson.   


“Can’t it wait, I’m trying to mold the next generation he-” She stopped when she saw Spike.

“Andrew, mind substituting for a sec while I speak to Spike?”

“I don’t know how to tea-”

“Thanks! You’re a doll.” Buffy said. She walked out of the classroom. 

Barely able to contain her rage, she imploded as soon as they were out of earshot from the class.

“What the hell! I thought you were dead, and now you’re just moseying on into my life like nothing happened!” Buffy shouted, her fists clenched.

“Buffy, please, I meant to call you… I just… didn’t know what to say…” Spike started speaking “I mean. I saved the world, dying a hero. How’s a bloke supposed to come back from that?”

“Anything would have been better than just leaving your girlfriend behind to mourn you, and try to pick up the pieces!” Buffy said. Immediately, she realized her Freudian slip.

“I tried! I flew to Italy-” Finally, he registered what she had said. She had called herself his girlfriend.

“I… I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean girlfriend. I meant, girl who is a friend. A friend of the girly persuasion.” Buffy rambled, hoping he would move on from it.

“We were datin’? We were ‘girlfriend and boyfriend’?” Spike asked. His heart felt like it was going to explode. Maybe she hadn’t loved him, but she had cared about him. She had valued their relationship as more than just a few hookups.  _ They  _ were more than just a few hookups.

“It was a slip. Stop changing the subject. You lied to me. Well, maybe not ‘lied’, but you certainly omitted the truth.” 

“I… I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me. For just one moment, I was a champion. I was a man worthy of you. Worthy of redemption. Then poof. I was back to being good ol’ screwup Spike. Sidekick to good ol’ ‘Captain Forehead’.” Spike said, his eyes on the hardwood floor.

“I could never have been disappointed in you. I mean, sure you’re a bit of a jackass sometimes, but I missed you. If I wanted a ‘champion’, I would’ve gotten back with Angel. I wanted  _ you _ . The jackassery is just part of the deal.”

“You really mean that?” Spike looked up at her, dumb-founded. 

“I mean it very muchly.” Buffy said.

Spike opened his mouth to speak. “That doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about the whole faked your death thing.” Buffy said before Spike could even talk.

“Hey! You dated the Immortal! He’s my archnemesis! I’d say we’re about even.”

“For like a week! And how’d you even know about that! Don’t go all stalker-like on me!” 

“Angel and I flew to Italy to kick his ass.” 

“And you couldn’t have stopped by to say ‘Hi, I’m actually like super alive’ while you were there?” 

“I tried to but we couldn’t catch up with you! Led us on a whole wild goose chase, innit! Got my good jacket all destroyed. It was tragic!” Spike said, defensively.

“No need to go all postal. We’re cool. I’ll look past your brief  _ Single White Female _ phase.” The two stood together in silence for a moment, neither one sure of what to say.

“So… you’ve got a whole Hogwarts School for Slayers thing goin’ here…” Spike said, breaking the silence.

“Well, it’s kinda Faith and I’s thing now…teaching the next gen and all that good Lifetime original stuff.”

“You got room for a ruggedly handsome vampire with a soul in this operation?”

“You know a guy like that?” She teased.

“Oh, ha ha.” Said Spike, deadpan.

“I don’t know if we’ve got space for a ruggedly handsome vampire with a soul, but I’m sure we can find room for a moderately attractive vampire who hasn’t changed his clothes since the 80s with a soul.” 

“So, what do you white hats do around here?” Spike asked.

“Well, besides from training, not much really. Since the First died, or vanished, or whatever you wanna call it, stuff’s been pretty boring in Slayer-town.” Buffy said, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

“That’s good, inni-” A shrill scream from across the hall interrupted their conversation. Buffy raced to where the sound was coming from, Spike jogged after her. Buffy opened the door to the girl’s bathroom and saw a small Slayer laying on the floor in fetal position.

“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, placing a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. The girl flinched. 

“A-Amanda, s-she was here.” The girl said, her voice a whimper. Buffy’s face went stone cold.

“What do you mean? Amanda was here? She’s dead.” Said Buffy, her face twisted in concern.

“S-she was standing right there.” The girl pointed to empty space.

“Do you think the First is back?” Spike asked.

“No, there’s no way. You destroyed the Hellmouth.” Buffy said.

“It wasn’t the First. It was her. It was Amanda. She spoke to me, like nothing had even happened.” The Slayer said, tears streaming down her face. “She… she asked me if we won. It was like she didn’t know she had even died.”

“I think we need to consult Giles.” Buffy mused, looking over at Spike. “Spike, take her to see Faith, she’s probably in her office. Doing work-like things. It’s room 201.”

“Right, okay.” Spike said as he helped the young Slayer onto her feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Scooby Gang sat in the new library. It was large and extravagant, with more books on the occult than one person could ever read. Giles had once owned the largest collection in North America, now, as one of the few remaining Watchers, he owned the largest collection in the world. Willow sat in the corner of the room on a large armchair, piles of books of mystical origin surrounded her as she read, hunched over. 

Xander held a book, pretending to read it. Giles glanced over at him and rolled his eyes.

“Could you at least attempt to aid us in our research, Xander?” Giles said, pushing up his glasses.

“Blah, blah, blah, I’m Giles, I’m  _ soooo _ stuffy and I love cross-referencing.”

“This is unnecessary. We have a serious problem, Xander.”

“Yeah, I’ve got one good eye and _ Edward Cullen _ is back in town.” Xander laughed humorlessly.

“Xander! We’ve got ghosts haunting our school, and all you can think about is Spike?” Willow said, furrowing her brows.

“Xander, if you want to be with Spike so bad, I am willing to share.” Buffy remarked, sarcastically. 

“Look, when Spike’s here bad things happen. It’s just a fact. He’s all cuddly right now but who knows when he’s gonna go all blood-lusty.” 

“He’s not blood-lusty anymore, you know that. He gave up his life for us.”

“This is really off-topic. Can we please focus on the topic at hand?” Giles said, rubbing his head in annoyance. 

“Thank you.” Willow sighed.

“So, what’s the consensus? Is it a demon thingy? Is it an evil demon thingy?” Buffy asked, eager to find a way to be done with this.

“Oh, uh, not a demon ‘thingy’ of any sort. It seems like we may have a case of unfinished business. The spirits need to move on but they’re not done here.” Giles stammered.

“Well, why don’t we just tell them their shifts’ over and they need to go home?” Xander said.

“It’s not that simple. Their souls are tethered to this plane. They can’t leave until their tethers are broken.” Giles explained.

“How do we break a ‘tether’?” Buffy asked.

“We have to figure out what’s keeping them here. For some spirits, it’s duty, family, or on occasion, love.” Giles said.

“What did Amanda say?” Willow said, looking up from her book.

“She asked if we won.” Buffy replied, a somber look on her face.

“Then, we’ve got our link. She needs to know that her death wasn’t in vain. That she helped save the world,” Giles’ eyes shifted to Buffy. “Do you know if Amanda is the only spirit?”

Buffy shook her head.

“Buufffyyy…” A voice called out. Buffy head jolted around, searching for the source of voice.

“Is it over… did we do it?” A teenage girl stepped out from behind a bookcase, her hair was dark and she had a gaping hole in her chest, the size of a sword. Deep crimson blood still oozed from it. 

“Where are we?” She asked, her voice was tired and hoarse.

“We won.” Buffy said, smiling bittersweetly at the young girl. Suddenly, she felt a wash of sorrow. This girl couldn’t have been older than Dawn when she died. And Buffy couldn’t save her. She couldn’t save everyone, even with her Slayer strength. She couldn’t save the youngest and most vulnerable among them.

After Buffy said that, the girl began to fade away. She looked peaceful, like she knew that everything was going to be alright on the other side.

“So, we found our solution…” Buffy said, choking back tears. 

“I guess we just need a way to summon them all.” Willow said, mournfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn and Andrew sat in their cramped Watcher’s classroom. Since they were the only students training to be Watchers, they’d been given the short end of the stick when it came to space. Dawn swore this room had to have been a broom closet at first, they must have repurposed it for them. 

Dawn tapped her pencil against the table. “I’m so boooorrrreeed!” She groaned, a large Watcher’s handbook open on her desk.

“It’s not so bad. We’ve got chips, and it’s kinda like the X-Men Academy, well, except we’re not X-Men.” Andrew sat, chomping on a pringle.

“Yeah, we’re like the X-Men’s overworked assistants.” Dawn whined.

“Well, the X-Men didn’t have assistants.” 

“Can it, nerd.” She playfully punched Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew yelped, feigning injury. He opened his book and flipped through it absent-mindedly.

“These rules are so stupid! Why can’t we kill humans? Some humans actually  _ suck _ . Like that girl, Katie, from my math class in eleventh grade. She was worse than any demon.” Andrew rambled.

“Said the murderer…” Dawn remarked.

“Hey! I’m good now! I’ve had a whole redemption arc and everything. Now, I fight on the side of the light, instead of darkness! Like Spike, only more handsome and gay!” Andrew said, melodramatically. He gestured wildly with his hands.

Dawn groaned at the sound of Spike’s name.

“Right… touchy subject.” Andrew said, sheepishly, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you know Slayers were supposed to live with their Watchers?” Andrew said in an attempt to change the subject.

“That would have made my middle school experience  _ waaay _ easier.” Dawn laughed.

“It would be so weird. Imagine Buffy as, like, a tiny Giles.” Andrew joked.

“With, like, little miniature girl sweater vests?” Dawn added.

“Yeah, and Buffy sized spectac-” 

“Xaaanddeeerrr…” A familiar voice said.

“Was that…” Andrew trailed off when he saw Anya standing in front of him. Her body was split in two, just barely held together. Blood soaked the jacket she died in. Even though she was falling apart at the seams, she still looked almost ethereally beautiful, in a ghostly, undead sort of way.

“Anya?” Andrew looked in shock. He got up, and tried to hug her, but his arms split right through, like she was only air.

“You saved me! Do you remember?” He asked, grinning at her.

“No… is Xander okay?” She asked, eyes wide with concern.

“He… he’s alright. He misses you. A lot. He still talks about you all the time. Sometimes, it’s like you’re still alive to him.” Andrew said, wiping tears from his eyes.

Anya faded into thin air like she had never been there at all. She had finally gotten peace. Xander was okay and the world was too. 

“Should we tell Xander?” Dawn murmured.

“No. I-I don’t think he would be able to handle it…” Andrew responded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Scoobies sat in a circle where the opening of the Hellmouth had once stood. Xander was finishing up a rough painting of a pentagram on the floor. He dropped the paintbrush and looked down.

“You think Anya will show up? Y’know since she died here…” He wondered aloud.

“I don’t know, Xand, it’s possible. This kind of magic can be a bit finicky though. Sometimes, when a ghost doesn’t want to be seen, they don’t appear at all.” Willow said, grinding herbs in a cup.

“Alright, I think we’re ready.” She poured the herbs in the middle of the pentagram.

“Achyls, Persephone, Keres, I invoke thee.” She said as she walked around the pentagram, sprinkling bone-dust onto the floor.

“Achlys, Persephone, Keres, I invoke thee.” She sat back down and lit three black candles. 

“Make those who cannot be seen appear before me.” She said.  Suddenly, a shroud of darkness surrounded the group. 

“Did we mess up the spell?” Buffy asked.

Willow shook her head. Suddenly, a large group of girls stepped out of the mist. Each one bore the wounds of their deaths.

The girls mused various questions, their voices a cacophony of concerns.

“Did we win?” 

“Is it over?”   
  
“Are we okay?”

“You’re all going to be alright. We’ve won. The apocalypse is over. You can be free now.” Buffy said, calmly, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“You can all go. You don’t have to be here anymore. You’re relieved from your post.” Giles added.

“Thank you.” The girls whispered in unison as they drifted away into the unknown. The Scoobies sat together in silence for a moment, trying to comprehend what they had just seen.

“Where do you think they’re going?” Willow asked.

“Heaven.” Buffy said.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of our fic! We plan on creating an entire season's worth, so stay tuned for the next update, which will hopefully be out in a week or two!


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